Death as a Way of Life

A cemetery in the village. Some are marked
with large tombstones. Some are marked only
with the stones surrounding the burial plot.

Although death is a common occurrence here, it is only just recently that it has crept into my close circle of contacts. Most of the reason is simply the amount of time I have now lived here. When I first arrived, I didn’t know anyone. Even if a distant relative passed away, my family would wave it off and say that there was no reason for me to trouble myself with attending the viewing or funeral. Now I know the people in my host family; I know my neighbors in the village; I know the families of the teachers at my school. Death is no longer something that can be waved off. And it is becoming clear how common of an occurrence it is. In the past month, three families that I know have had to cope with the passing of people whose lives were just getting started.

On the last Friday of October, the eldest son of one of the grade 5 and 6 teachers was found dead at his home. The details were a bit sketchy. I know that the boy was in his mid-twenties and was working to become a doctor at the local hospital in our shopping town. It appeared as though he had a heart attack, and we were told that he was found early in the morning by his girlfriend.

The teacher was obviously not in school on Friday, but we saw him the following Tuesday when we went to his home for the visiting. We all arrived at school as normal, but the students were dismissed at 11am after lunch had been served. The principal arranged for a minibus taxi to come and pick us all up and drive us nearly two hours away to his very deep rural home. Once we arrived, we were ushered into the house of the ancestors (all Zulu families have one of these) where the mother of the deceased was sitting on a mattress on the floor, against the wall, wrapped in a number of blankets, next to a lit candle. She was in mourning and would stay like this for a week. Other female members of the family would sit in the house with her during the day and even sleep with her at night. She would be brought meals and anything else that she needed until she left to attend the funeral on the following Saturday. As we entered the house, we sang songs of sorrow and grief and sat on mats laid out on the floor. Several teachers recited passages from the Bible and led the group in prayer. More songs and more prayers followed. I really couldn’t tell you what was being said, but it didn’t matter. The atmosphere was quite sad, as expected. When it was over, we went outside to pass along our condolences to the men in the family who sat in the shade under a tree. And then we moved to another house where a few chairs and more mats were set up and we were served a meal of rice, chicken, and some butternut: something that everyone is served when they come to pay their respects. We spent about 45 minutes to an hour total at the house before we re-boarded our transport and were on our way back to the village. It may seem odd that we shut down school for this, but Zulus place great importance on relationships, and to not make this visit would be considered extremely rude. It was certainly not pleasant, but it was an important way to show respect.

A mere one week later, the first Monday morning of November, I was stunned to learn that a young girl in grade 11 and cousin to my host family, committed suicide over the weekend. (Gruesome detail: here, nearly all suicides are by hanging.) What was worse, should that be possible, is that this was the second child of the family to commit suicide. An older brother took his life about two years earlier. The news was given to the principal of the secondary school (which is across the road) that morning by a relative of the deceased. The principal then relayed the message to our staff, since nearly every single teacher also knew the girl. The learners at our school were instructed to stay in their classrooms while all but one of the teachers walked with the teachers from the secondary school to the home of deceased in a nearby part of the village. During the 20-minute journey, I had a very insightful discussion with the principal of the secondary school about how Zulus traditionally respond to this tragedy. He explained that during the next week, family and friends would visit just as they would for any other death, to mourn the loss and to show their support. But after the funeral, no one would visit again until the family had been “cleansed” by an elder or traditional healer of the village. The cleansing will involve the slaughtering of a goat and a variety of rituals to rid the home of any spirits that might have caused this. When I asked for other details, he said that was all he knew because one would only have attended this ceremony if there was a suicide in the immediate family, and thankfully, that has never happened to him. Obviously, I hope it does not happen to me either. Our visit followed the same pattern as the previous visit, minus the food as there had not yet been time to prepare anything for visitors.

Just two weeks later, on the third Monday of November, an urgent staff meeting was called after morning assembly to let us know that the young adult daughter of one of our grade R teachers had passed away over the weekend. No one seemed interested in discussing the cause or details (it was not a heart attack and it was not suicide). She lived a few families down from me, and in the past two or three months, she was rarely seen because she had “terrible flu.” I would bet my life there was more to the story than that, but I don’t want to speculate. No matter what the cause of death, it was quite sad to attend a third wake in just over four weeks. As with the past two deaths, all of the teachers visited the house the next day to express our condolences and grieve with the family. It was quite sad. It does not get easier. And it will likely not be the last time.

Visitors, Visitors, Visitors

Just as I had a few visitors near the end of October, the second week of November proved to be another high season for coming to see the library, which is nice because I really do enjoy having people come, whether they stay at my house or stop by for the afternoon.

Grade 6 learners gather around as I
introduce the game Memory.

The first pair to come was Ted and Amy, who both live in Southern KZN. I met them in town on Sunday afternoon (after a big shopping spree at the grocery store) and then we headed back to my house. They were fascinated at how I lived without electricity and all the little things that I did to get by: the paraffin lamps, the concrete blocks on the floor as a makeshift refrigerator, and the solar panel that charges the car battery when I need to recharge my cell phone or laptop on weekends. They also like to cook, so I ate really well for a few days. Of course, their main reason for visiting was to see the school library in action, so they came to school with me on Monday, got the grand tour, met

Amy, me, and Ted in my front yard.
Always great to have visitors.

most of the teachers, and then helped out when grade 6 came to the library. It was nice because they took lots of pictures and a few videos of me, something that I really don’t have. They both had to leave Tuesday morning to get back to their own sites and schools, but I think it was a worthwhile trip for everyone.

The next pair to stop by was Katrina and Michael, who both live in Northern KZN. They weren’t really coming to see me, but instead were spending the week with Liz to help her sort through the hundreds of boxes of books that were delivered last week by Books for Africa. Since they were in the area, though, they thought it would be fun to visit a few others, and I was more than happy to play host for the afternoon. They followed pretty much the same school routine as Ted and Amy: arrived before lunch, met a few teachers, and then came to the library to help out with grade 7. At one point, Michael looked around and said, “Maybe I have been out of America for too long, but right now I feel like I am in a school library back in the States.” He can come back any time to visit J. It was a nice thing to hear. The added bonus of their visit was that when they were dropped off, they also dropped off the 23 boxes of new books for our school – no need to worry about picking them up! As much as I wanted to dive into them to see what we got, I realized that it is more important to wait until I have some additional help. I don’t want it to be only me that sorts and shelves these books. This is my big chance to make sure someone else knows what is going on. It will probably take until the beginning of next school year to get things going, but that is just fine. The principal suggested the same thing, so no one seems to be worried that I am not doing my job. For now the boxes are sitting in the computer lab until we are ready to get things underway.

The last visitor of the week was my Peace Corp boss, Lydia. She is the person that placed me at this site and has visited once or twice over the past year and a half to make sure that all is going well. She arrived at the school early Thursday morning to meet with my principal and be sure that there were no problems. After they were done, I had a chance to sit down with her and chat about my work this year and my plans for next school year. Of course, we took a quick look around the library.  While there, Lydia told me that the principal admitted that it was wrong of her not to have taken me to the awards ceremony in Durban last month. That was a bit of a surprise.  The principal certainly never said anything to me. Lydia said it may be something that she wanted me to know, but couldn’t bring herself to say. This was her way of relaying the message. Either way, it was nice to hear. After finishing up at the school, we took a quick trip to my house in the village to say hello to my host family and make sure that everything there was running smoothly. Lydia also wanted to check to see if my host family was up for having one more volunteer come after me, to which they said, “no problem.” She also agreed that my rondavel belonged on the cover of Architectural Digest for its stunning décor. With that, she dropped me back at school and was off to visit another volunteer in the area.

Sadly, I haven’t had any visitors since, but it is no matter. I have a feeling there will be another high season just around the corner.

A Very Busy Week

I recall that when I was teaching in America, the end of year always had a very busy feeling to it. Teachers and students alike tried to wrap things up amidst a traditional smorgasbord of extra assemblies and activities. Oddly, that seems to be happening here as well.

Our Books for Africa delivery!

First, on Tuesday, we took one of the last big steps to greatly enhance our school library. All the books that we have been raising money to receive finally made it here! The Books for Africa shipping container arrived in our shopping town of Nquthu after having been unloaded off the boat in Durban just the day before. The PCV that organized the fundraising and delivery of the shipment, Liz, was to meet the truck in town and then help the driver navigate his way to her village school for unloading.

The six PCVs in our area as well as dozens of school children from the primary and secondary schools in the village anxiously awaited the arrival of the truck at the primary school. We only had a few hours to unload just over five hundred and fifty rather heavy boxes into an empty classroom before the delivery service would start to charge extra! We really thought it was going to be impossible, but by some miracle, we finished in what had to be record time. Never

Our book moving brigade.

underestimate the power of a brigade. I may or may not have injured myself in the process, but I healed quickly, so it doesn’t really matter. Each volunteer involved is expecting to receive about 23 boxes containing 800-1000 books total for his or her library. We are all certainly looking forward to getting those books sorted and put on the shelves!

The Battlefield PCVs with over 550 boxes of books!

Parents are set in the tent for the ceremony.

Next up was the Grade R Graduation and Grade 7 Farewell function held on Thursday. It was almost too weird that this was my second time around in experiencing this occasion. At this point, I am an old pro at school functions and know exactly what to expect. I also know what I can busy myself with to make it look like I am doing my part without having to do my part in the kitchen. I really do hate cooking…as well as peeling, chopping, grating, stirring, slicing, mixing, and any of the other things that the women in the kitchen are doing. Pass. Instead I do things like print and copy the program, prepare plates of snacks, and walk around with my camera acting like there are lots of important things I need to photograph. They fall for it every time ;-)

The Grade R learners parade into the ceremony.

One of my favorite parts about last year’s farewell function, was that each grade had a group of boys and a group of girls that organized themselves to perform short cultural dances or songs in traditional dress. This year’s function had none of that, which I thought was a shame. The rest of the function went pretty much the same as the year before.  The students and parents assembled in their designated areas of the tent. Grade R came in wearing small graduation caps and gowns over fancy dresses or suits. Then Grade 7 paraded in wearing what I can only describe as outfits fit for prom and with hair to match. Most of the girls had gone to town the day before to have their hair done up in braids or other weaves. For many this was a first. The rest of the ceremony was full of somewhat inspiring speeches, fairly lively music, and a rather lengthy process to present certificates to the grade R learners. This was immediately followed by the typical function meal served to special guests, parents, and the learners in grade 7. As usual, the dirty dishes were piled up in the kitchen for clean-up the next day. Another Zulu function in the books.

Grade 7, ready for their farewell function.

What a week! I’ll be interested to see what else is in store as the school year wraps up.

White Wedding

Yesterday, I was up early (nothing unusual) to get myself ready to attend the wedding of our school’s Administrative Clerk (aka Main Office Secretary) and one of the grade 6 teachers. The whole event was a pretty big deal since they planned both a traditional ceremony and a modern ceremony, called a White Wedding (which I was told by a teacher is called this because the bride wears a white dress, not because the idea came from white people.)

I met my principal at the Shoprite in town so she could drive me to the hall where the whole event would take place. Quick side note: despite the many discussions we had about this plan, I was still totally unclear as to when she was going to pick me up. I kept asking for a time, and she would say things like, when I am done getting ready I will come to the Shoprite, or when the taxi drops you off give me a call. Yes, well, those parts seem obvious, but what TIME should we aim for those things to happen. Turns out it didn’t matter. In the end, I got to town, went to the bank to do my one errand, and just as I was finished, she called to say she was there to pick me up. I guess I really should have learned at this point to stop worrying about those types of things. Back to the story. When I met her in the car (around 10am) she said it was best for us to buy some chips (aka fries) as there was no telling what the day would bring and when we would next eat. Good call. After we finished our “snack” we were off to the community hall where the entire event (ceremony and reception) took place.

The ceremony and reception hall.

As soon as I walked in, I knew I was in for something pretty spectacular. Nearly everything I noticed paralleled a wedding I had been to in America at some point, but it also included that Zulu-twist. The hall was massive and decorated to the nines with turquoise, silver, and white gossamer. Luckily we got there just in time for the whole thing to start, and only a few minutes after I took my seat at a table near the very front (with most of the other teachers from school) the bridesmaids started to come down the aisle. They were wearing matching turquoise dresses covered in feathers with silver high heels. And they didn’t just walk down the aisle, they danced a sort of cha-cha style dance that took something like five minutes per girl to make the trip while some extremely

The bride and groom wave to the crowd
as they walk down the aisle.

lively music played in the background. Once all four bridesmaids and the maid of honor had entered, the groomsmen took their turn. Then the bride and groom walked down the aisle together – and then than walked back up and down again, this time waving to everyone. There was a program of events on the table but I really don’t think we followed it. In no particular order, here are the things I remember most:

• Nearly every word that was spoken or sung was done so at the highest possible volume you could imagine.
• Because there was so much electricity being used for microphones and keyboards and lights, there was a fuse that kept blowing out, and they would repair it and then it would blow again. Eventually they figured out the maximum number of things that could be on at one time and still keep power.
• People would spontaneously come up to the front and dance to the music.

• There was a point when the bride and groom re-enacted the moment of the original proposal.
• At another point the two sat down at a small table in the front and signed paperwork while a special choir was singing.

• I think there were vows spoken.

• They definitely cut the cake and then made a big deal about presenting different layers of the cake to the bride and groom’s families.

• Someone gave a speech titled “words of wisdom” which lasted over an hour and I later came to find out included important tips like: always have a meal ready for your husband or else he will hire a cook who will be more beautiful than you and they will run away together. I got the translation from the young teacher at the school who had a scowl on her face during most of the speech. It was perhaps best that I could not understand most of what was going on.
• There was a request for donations from the audience – for any amount of money – then the music began playing (blaring really) and everyone in the hall got up and paraded to the front to drop cash in a basket. Just an idea for anyone out there planning a wedding.
• Things were going so late that the food service started before the whole ceremony was really over which made for just a little bit of chaos.
• The food was, no joke, pretty much the same as every other Zulu function I have been to. This is pretty much a one-menu sort of culture. Luckily it is a good menu and I enjoyed my chicken, beef, butternut, coleslaw, beetroot, green salad, bean salad, and potato salad dishes with fruit and cream dessert immensely.

Almost immediately people finished eating, the place was clearing out. We did anyway. I’m not sure if there was a big exit spectacle, but I do know that there was more to the ceremony at the groom’s house. But as it was getting late (it was about 5pm), and I would have no way home, I was never planning to be in attendance for that part. This was my end of the line. Which was good, because I was quite tired. I am, however, quite glad that I got a chance to see one “white wedding” in all its glory.

Happy Halloween Hailstorm

This year's Halloween decorations at home.

Once again, I had the best of intentions to “share American culture” by celebrating Halloween at school on the 31st with the kids. But the week sort of got away from me. One of our staff members lost his eldest child to a heart attack late last week and we went to visit his family to express our condolences on Tuesday. Then on Wednesday, a variety of visitors stopped by the school for an hour or so in the afternoon to visit the school library. So by Thursday, I had nothing prepared and it came and went like any other day.

A brief hailstorm was about the only
thing interesting this Halloween.

In some parts of South Africa (the first world parts), Halloween is a thing the same as in the United States. When I was in Pretoria earlier this month, I saw decorations with pumpkins, ghosts, and witches for sale at CNA. And the guys that run the backpackers where I always stay said that they will get a few trick-or-treaters in the neighborhood where they live. In the village, not so much. Witchcraft and ghosts are not something the Zulus think about in a light-hearted manner, so it is best to be careful with what is introduced about new holidays. I figured I would mainly focus on the costumes and candy. Since I can’t say, “I’ll do it next year,” instead I’ll say, “I’ll leave a note for the next volunteer.”

Instead, I did my best to decorate my hut with a few things sent from America. Otherwise, I enjoyed the afternoon hailstorm that rolled in right after I arrived home from school. Such lovely weather here at times. Hope everyone else enjoyed a candy-filled day!